


Spying in the doorway

by Ibenholt



Category: Ai no Kusabi
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21590068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibenholt/pseuds/Ibenholt
Summary: What was Iason doing while Riki was away?
Relationships: Guy/Riki (Ai no Kusabi), Iason Mink/Riki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Spying in the doorway

Time meant nothing to an Elite.

Yet the night was creeping by like molasses. Iason had downed a whole bottle of wine, trying to ignore that his hands were shaking. He wasn’t aware that they could.

The replacement Furniture, Dug, served him with the attentive care only a seasoned Furniture could, and yet he sent him away because he saw Riki in the dark curls. Only a day later, his new Furniture, Cal, arrived. Pale as a pearl, with sandy hair and grey eyes. A far cry from Riki.

And despite his skill and excellent cooking, coming home was dreadful now. The boy moved around like a ghost. All life was gone from the penthouse. 

He stared at the footage as it changed rapidly. Riki asleep. Riki smoking. Running. Drinking. Glaring…

One picture of him in pet attire appeared, and Iason bit down.

Not a sound left him, but he shuddered violently, gripping the desk with his free hand. 

Then it was over.

Disgusted with himself, he wrung his gloves off and threw them in the garbage where they quickly disintegrated.

He was bursting at the seams.

Iason did his work with the same quiet efficiency he always had. Nothing had changed. Not really. He just didn’t have a reason to go home anymore.

His bed had never been bigger. He started sleeping in his office. Cal still changed the sheets without a word or question.

Iason entertained himself with fantasies, which was new. He pictured Riki coming back. Because soon, he would! How could anyone forget the feeling of silk against their skin or the joys of good food for every meal. Oh, he would pretend it was for some other purpose that he had returned, but Iason wouldn’t mind.

He would be the lenient, forgiving master.

Riki could wear his usual clothes. Smoke as much as he would. Iason would fight Orphe and the others tooth and nail to keep him away from the pet parties. All this and more he would give him. He just had to come back. 

“Your poor Furniture must be bored to tears.”

Raoul said, stabbing at the chocolate cake with an intricate spoon. Iason didn’t answer, merely stared at the pieces of chocolate that were drowning in frosting. Riki’s favorite.

“Come to the banquet with me,” Raoul said, looking as if he had just suggested something scandalous, “Aisha is throwing it in Gideon’s honor, so you know it will be a good time!” 

It wasn’t. It was dull. Pets acted either meekly or obscenely depending on what their masters wanted, and their masters would just stand around and talk business or art.

He sat down with his brothers and let his mind wander. Riki would have made a ruckus. Maybe even pushed a table over. He smiled at the thought.

‘Don’t send me away.’

He turned to the voice. There he was. Riki.

‘Don’t send me away from you, Iason.’

“Riki!”

But the surprised squeal did not belong to Riki. Neither did those green eyes. He realized he was holding the wrist of some Furniture who had dropped his tray and splashed wine all over Orphe’s trousers.

For what felt like an eternity, he held the Furniture’s arm as they stared at one another. The skin was too pale, and the hair was far from that inky black he longed for. But for a moment, he had seen Riki.

Gideon was doing his best to lower his giggles, but he failed and wound up howling with his head on Aisha’s shoulder.

“He’s finally gone insane!”

Iason didn’t feel himself get up, but suddenly he was rushing through the corridor, his cape billowing behind him. Gideon’s voice echoed throughout the tiled walls, following him just like Raoul was.

“Iason!”

“Leave me be.”

“Iason, stop it!”

Raoul grabbed him and pulled him into a small hall full of paintings.

“Iason what is the matter with you! I hardly recognize you!”

Raoul’s voice was unusually harsh, and the eyes were concerned, which moved him. Iason knew Orphe, Aisha and Gideon well enough to know that that he didn’t like them. The others were so rarely summoned that they were distant to him.

Had he really no one but Raoul?

Blondies were lonely creatures, he had thought. Solitary. But he couldn’t go on this way with only Raoul for company. 

While he would freely admit he had a certain fondness for Katze, he knew his former Furniture did not return it. He was obedient and loyal to a fault. But they were not friends, and Katze would never dare consider himself anymore than a trusted ally.

“Could you finish this without me?”

He said finally. Raoul’s hands were still on his arms, and the grip tightened,

“Yes, of course. I’ll tell them Mother sent for you.”

Mother didn’t send for him. Not as he went into an ordinary clothing store and picked out attire no elite should wear.

He slipped into the unfamiliar garments in the back of his car, and then he let himself blend into the shadows of Ceres.

It reeked. The filth was everywhere, as was the stench of tobacco, bad booze and engine smoke. And among it, there were young men in short or open shirts, showing off sculpted, hard bodies. Pushed to the sides were the young and the old. Too weak to take on these who were in full bloom.

Iason hurried. He had no time to consider any of them. He had a target in mind. He got a few longing gazes, and every now and then someone trying to reach into his pocket. Trying, at least.

Then, as dusk was setting in, he saw him.

Riki came out of a bar, surrounded by his gang. Iason stood still as he took him in. So this was his mongrel on his own turf. He was thinner. Dirty. Attired in black leather and jeans. His hair was much longer, and as his vision adjusted, he could see some stubble.

It took all his strength not to walk over there and drag him with him. One of the friends slapped him on the back and said something that made them all laugh. Then another one, one with a pony tail said something that made him grin.

_Look at me_, Iason pleaded.

_Won’t you smile at me like you smile at him? _

Oh, how he longed to see Riki’s eyes light up and his mouth pulled back in a genuine smile, and for him to be the reason. 

But was this it? Riki looked worn the moment his friends turned away. It was like a cloud was hanging over him. 

This was his work, Iason realized, and a sharp pain went through him.

He looked up and all other thoughts left him, because Riki was looking right at him.

He remained where he was.

_Yes. Look at me. _

Riki’s eyes widened, then he stumbled backwards into a man with dark red hair who pulled him into a clumsy hug. He suddenly seemed to register the panic, because that was what it was, and called on the others. Iason saw Riki’s knuckles become white, and when he increased his hearing, he heard someone mutter ‘bad trip’ between Riki’s hurried breaths and heartbeat.

Then he, the former pairing partner, for what else could he be, grabbed Riki’s hand, lacing their fingers together and pulled him away.

Away from Iason and into the night.

It was like he had been pinned in place. It didn’t occur to him to follow them. Slowly, he turned around and began walking. It was dark still, and the stench was getting worse.

He didn’t notice the men until they were pushing him into an alley. They brandished laser knives and grinned with toothless mouths,

“Think we can’t see you’re not from the slum, fucker?”

“You on safari? Let’s give you the tour…”

One of them reached for his belt,

“Or give us your credits and we’ll…”

He stopped speaking as Iason’s fist went through his skull. Not wasting a moment, he grabbed them and tore their bodies apart like they were made of paper.

Riki was frightened of him.

Iason had longed for him for a whole year, and he had looked at him as if he was his worst nightmare come to life.

He had clung to his gang. Their hands had been everywhere on him. On the body that belonged to him!

His eyes were burning when the last one of them fell to his knees and begged for mercy. He didn’t grant any.

When he left Ceres behind, his gloves were bloody. He shed them in a nearby trashcan and looked back on the place that Jupiter forgot.

He would wait longer. Wait until Riki’s desperation and need outgrew his fear. Then he would return to retrieve him.

After all, time meant nothing to an elite.


End file.
